Butts
by Ebaz
Summary: So she had a soft spot for hot guys. Big deal. —DawnxGreen, DawnxSteven Stone


_I like butts._

It was written just above her paper, carved into the surface of her desk with a hardy blue pen. The scrawl was jerky and sharp-angled (which probably had something to do with the fact that high school students weren't typically master engravers). She stared at it, frowned, and tried to turn her attention back to the board.

Dear _Arceus_, Professor Stone was attractive. She could almost _taste_ the Hoennan accent as he spoke in that rich voice of his – and his looks were even better. High-cheekboned, perfect-haired, sapphire-eyed Steven Stone belonged in a magazine, not in a stuffy Kanto classroom teaching advanced calculus.

Dawn admitted it – she didn't belong in the class. Being only average at math, she'd relied on a copy of the placement test kindly provided by Green Oak. Of course, she hadn't told him her reasons for wanting to be in the top class, so she let him think it was because of him and his extraordinary math talents. He was _so_ self-centered sometimes; she wondered why she even put up with him.

_Because _he's_ also incredibly attractive_, a little voice reminded her.

Okay, so she had a soft spot for hot guys. Big deal.

She realized that her plan to pay attention had failed, and mentally sighed at herself. There was _no_ way she was going to pass this test; it was a wonder she was even passing the class. All hope for a nice GPA lost, she gave up and looked back down at the desk.

There it was again. _Butts_. Why, of all the magnificent words in the world, had someone written it? She could understand that they liked them – she couldn't disagree, especially not with Steven Stone currently facing the blackboard – but if the point of vandalism was to be vulgar, there were several more colorful terms for the body part she could think of.

As she stared at it, another thought occurred to her. Her friend Leaf was always making "rubbings" of things with charcoal, so maybe… She ran her finger over the words and discovered that they were indeed ridged into the wood.

Oh, but of course. She didn't have any charcoal. How embarrassing.

She turned to her right and saw Green focused on the board, his notebook full of integrals and summations. _Oh, are we supposed to be taking notes_? she asked herself, and shrugged. She could get them some other time. Maybe she could ask to stay after class, and then…

Whoops. Right. Focus on the task, Dawn.

She opened up her notebook and, vowing to actually use it for its intended purposes next time, ripped out a page and hastily scribbled:

_-Hey, do u have any charcoal? :)_

She folded it neatly and placed it on Green's vandalism-free desk.

He frowned as he read it and looked back at her strangely before scribbling a response.

_-Why the hell would I be carrying around charcoal?_

She made a face.

_-I was only asking._

Green stared pointedly at the board.

She stuck out her tongue and balled up another note.

_-That means you don't have any, right?_

That one hit his hand as he was writing, and she grinned in triumph.

_-No, I do not have any charcoal. What do you need it for, anyway?_

_-I want to make a rubbing._

He snorted out loud at this. -_Excuse me?_

_-A rubbing. With charcoal. You know what I mean._

_-Hadn't pegged you as the artsy type, Berlitz._

_-I can be! ! !_

_-Calm yourself. That many exclamation marks are __never__ necessary._

_-Shut up, Oak._

_-Never._

_-You made me sad. I can't do a rubbing now._

_-Sure you can. Just use your pencil – or is that below your artistic requirements?_

_-Oh, that's a really good idea! Thanks, Green! ! :)_

_-One, Berlitz. __One__ exclamation mark is all that's necessary._

She grabbed another piece of paper and placed it over the engraving. Holding it in place, she ran her pencil back and forth over both of them. She folded it and passed it back to Green, satisfied with herself.

She realized her mistake a moment too late, just as he was unfolding it. "No! Don't read that!" she hissed, and Professor Stone looked behind him curiously.

"Is anything wrong, Miss Berlitz?" he asked in his gravelly drawl.

"No, Professor," she beamed, and snuck a side glance at Green. Said boy had a strange expression on his face, and tossed it back to Dawn as Stone turned back to the board.

_-I didn't know you thought of me that way, Dawn. I do have a girlfriend, unfortunately, but I can make exceptions…_

_-Shut up! That wasn't for you._ She made a face and dropped it from between her thumb and forefinger as if it were disgusting.

_-Then who was it for? Professor Stone?_ His lips curled into a smirk.

She glared. _-You need to be quiet, Green Oak._

_-I don't think so._ He waited for the opportune moment and timed it perfectly – as soon as Dawn leaned over to pass the note, he raised his hand and said, "Professor?"

She tried to retract her hand, but it was too late. Professor Stone raised his eyebrows. "Miss Berlitz? What've you got there?" he asked pleasantly.

"Just – ah – help… for rates of change," she said airily, clutching the notes so tightly she was sure they would compress into diamonds.

"Oh, good!" he said with a gracious smile. "I have a feeling the rest of the class could benefit from that, so why don't you bring it up here and share it?"

"Er, it's – uh – it's not that good," she finished lamely.

"I'm sure it's fine," he insisted, and Dawn had a feeling he knew it was anything but math help.

With shaking fingers, she stood up. "Well," she began in a trembling voice, "you, uh, take the d-derivative…"

He nodded seriously, writing her mumbled train of thought on the board. She sat down, relieved that she hadn't been caught, and the professor smiled placidly and went back to math.

"I. Hate. You. So. Much," she hissed at Green through gritted teeth. He smirked and balled up a note, flicking it at her chest.

-_That's not very nice_, it read.

_-YOU'RE not very nice._

_-YOU'RE not the most original with comebacks._

_-Was that supposed to be a comeback? Because that's not very good, either._

_-No, Berlitz, it was a statement. Is it that difficult for you to distinguish between humor and fact?_

Having nothing else to say to this, she resorted to a sideways glare and a _:P_ on the paper.

_-What was with the "butts," anyway? Did you carve it into your desk in a fit of passionate daydreaming?_

_-You wish._

_-So it wasn't referring to me, then? That's a shame. I do have a rather nice one._

_-Of course it wasn't._

_-So it IS for Professor Stone, then. Huh. I'd never have pegged you as a tree-hugger-lover._

Huffily ripping a new piece of paper out of paper out of her notebook (and stowing the used one in her backpack, because she wasn't about to let Green hang onto it for blackmail purposes), Dawn scribbled out a very detailed picture of Green with a lopsided face and a jaunty mustache and a little pink speech bubble above his bubble-like lips that read _I AM A–_

"It seems Miss Berlitz is drawing a diagram to help with this problem," said Professor Stone, glancing down at her notebook. "Can I see?"

"Er – well – it's not very good –"

"Nonsense," he said firmly. "Any diagram is a good diagram." He motioned for it kindly.

Resignedly, Dawn handed over the well-used paper.

The professor's expression was unreadable for a few moments as he studied the picture. Finally, with a half-smile, he took out a pen from his desk and scribbled something on it before folding it in half and placing it back on Dawn's desk.

"It seems she was wrong," he said breezily. "That was a rather _excellent_ diagram..." He began to draw on the board, and Dawn opened the piece of paper as soon as his back was turned.

Inside the pink speech bubble, the sentence was now complete. Above Green's head read the words

_I AM ARROGANT (and altogether too confident in my posterior side)_

And underneath was another little note:

_Your "rate-of-change notes" were see-through. Do try to pay attention a bit more, okay?_

Dawn gave a little squeak of laughter and tucked the note under her binder. Green eyed her curiously, but she wasn't planning on showing him anything: after all, she was pretty sure it wasn't smart for a teacher to make fun of a student.

(But who cared? She'd gotten to see some of that wit Professor Stone was supposedly so famous for.)

(And maybe – _just maybe_ – she'd try and pay a little more attention in math.)

* * *

_A/N: I apologize for the weird spacing with the exclamation marks. FF wouldn't let me do multiple with normal spacing, for whatever reason :/_


End file.
